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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26340775">We Just Assume That It Happens</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_anakin/pseuds/oh_anakin'>oh_anakin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>We Just Assume 'verse [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Wizards of Once Series - Cressida Cowell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Politics, Gen, Implications, Missing Scene, POV Canon Character, POV Original Character, Slice of Life</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:23:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>871</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26340775</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_anakin/pseuds/oh_anakin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Events from the evening of 29 April 2017, as told by Caliburn, who definitely does not sleep in a bird's nest, and Sychorax Woods' aptly-named driver.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>We Just Assume 'verse [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1908988</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>We Just Assume That It Happens</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Couldn't resist.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>29 April 2017</b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Driver’s always been named rather aptly. He briefly considered becoming a pilot, or an engineer when he was fresh out of school. Then the Roaming Taxi Wizards kidnapped him... and, well, he supposes it’s just Destiny, after a fashion. </p><p>Sure, his Boss is almost as frightening as the Fractious Carburetor, but a little fear’s good for the soul. Keeps your feet on the ground and your speed in check. At least, that’s Driver’s philosophy, and it’s done good by him these last thirty years. </p><p>Sometimes Boss steps into the car with a smile, and that’s almost as scary as when she’s scowling. He doesn’t ask questions, <em> ever </em>. Just a ‘Good morning’ or ‘Evening, ma’am’. </p><p>Boss spent the morning's drive writing furiously on her legal pad, gripping her pen so hard her pale knuckles turned even whiter than usual.</p><p>Tonight, the long evening hours have only rain to show. Driver waits patiently for his Boss in the idling car, watching the rain roll down, till the only lights are those from the shuttered building’s windows and his car’s headlights. </p><p>The back passenger door opens, and in steps the passenger.</p><p>“Home, Driver." The rain doesn't seem to have touched her.</p><p>“No staff with you, Boss?”</p><p>“I dismissed them early,” Boss says curtly. “The meeting did not require their presence.” So she’s in a good mood, then: her cheeks even have a little color. </p><p>Driver takes the hint, and drives his Boss home.</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>29 April 2017</b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The Head Enchanter’s black car rumbles into the driveway a full hour and twenty minutes after he was supposed to be home.</p><p>Looter’s hollering indecipherable words at the telly; that’s Xar in the middle of that twinkling spiral of lights outside. (honestly, he’s going to catch pneumonia at this rate.) Everything is accounted for. </p><p>Encanzo’s black coat hangs itself neatly on the coat-rack by the front door. </p><p>“Thank the great green gods you’re home, sire!” </p><p>“The meeting went late. It was unavoidable, I'm afraid." Encanzo loosens his tie, sighing heavily. “I need a shower.”</p><p>Caliburn doesn’t envy him. Simply <em>sitting</em> between Encanzo and Leader Woods at the morning’s meeting was exhausting. (Encanzo simmered quietly in his seat when he was not speaking, per his usual habit. For her part, Woods spoke with an unusual vigor, before ignoring them both with icy professionalism. Of course, no one who was not looking for it would have been able to tell anything was amiss at all.</p><p>“I'm going home to my nest-- er, house, sire.” Caliburn corrects himself quickly. (“Sire” is a force of habit from his… other days. The nest is… not.) "Going home to my <em>house</em>, to <em>sleep."</em></p><p>When Encanzo doesn't reply, being already halfway down the hallway, Caliburn takes this as permission to begin his peaceful weekend early by slipping out the front door.</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>The Next Morning</b>
</p><p> </p><p>The sun shines warmly through the leaves of the Backyard Wood, the soft rays as gentle as a woman's touch on Caliburn's eyelids. </p><p> </p><h2>
  <b>“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGHHHH!” </b>
</h2><p> </p><p>Sleepy sprites flee Caliburn’s neighbor trees like Xar's scream was a gunshot. <em>"What?" "What?" "What?"</em></p><p>
  <em>"Xar upsetting."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Xar upsetting US!"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Caliburn fumbles for his spectacles, heart flapping against his ribs like a panicked bird. This is BAD, very bad indeed. </p><p>“Caliburn? Caliburn, are you up there?"</p><p>From very bad to worse indeed.</p><p>“I am awake, sire,” Caliburn says wearily. <em>“Although I’m rather regretting that now,"</em> he adds in his own mind.</p><p>“Xar’s… upsetting himself,” Encanzo begins. “I’m sure I can handle the media end of it. All I ask is for you to keep him off Twitter for a few hours.” </p><p>“And what’s he upsetting himself about?” Caliburn starts the arduous process of lowering himself down from the tree that is definitely not where he sleeps every night. </p><p>Encanzo's grimace is plain to hear. “Apparently some people have come to… some conclusions about what happened last night.”</p><p>Caliburn’s old bones creak and pinch in complaint. Slowly, he makes his way down and out of the tree. </p><p> </p><p>So much for a peaceful weekend. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>Very Late on the Night of 8 May 2017 / Very, Very Early in the Morning of 9 May 2017</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Driver doesn’t question it when Boss wakes him up over the phone (way later than any decent human should be awake, to boot). She trusts him, he likes to think, and he doesn’t let down anyone who thinks he’s trustworthy. </p><p>He doesn’t question it when Boss shows up looking very un-Boss-like, with a brunette wig and expensive-looking coat over black jeans. Boss doesn't wear jeans, EVER.</p><p>He doesn’t question it when Boss tells him <em> he’s </em> not going to be driving her, she’s going to be using HIS personal car, <em> not </em>the one he drives her around in. There’s no need to worry, she says, just hand over the keys and go back to bed. You’ll find it in perfectly good condition in the morning, with a plum bonus. </p><p>So he doesn’t worry. </p><p>(More importantly, he won’t mention it to anyone in the morning, which is what Boss <em> really </em>means.)</p><p> </p><p>As he’s settling back between the soft covers and cool sheets of his bed, his wife rolls over, grumbling sleepily. “What’s she tryin’ to cover up now, Driver?” </p><p>“Dunno.” Driver yawns. “Not my game.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Writing this chapter made me convinced that Caliburn has the sexual and romantic charisma of a cough drop.</p><p>Without context, I will also tell you that he was a raven on the Tower of London for a while, and that experience has never really quite left him. He still finds feathers on his suits on occasion, usually on days when Xar has been especially trying.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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